Burn Notice: The CIA Edition
by crod42
Summary: While Michael and Fiona are unofficially apprehending a biochemist, Sydney and Vaughn officially are doing the same thing. When they meet, they join forces not only now, but against the coming storm that threatens them both. Rated PG-13 for violence and swearing.
1. Chapter 1

Burn Notice: The CIA Edition

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Burn Notice or Alias!**

**NOTE: This takes place during Season 5: Episode 11 of Burn Notice and after Season 2: Episode 13 of Alias. If you want to make sense of the story, watch the episodes first.**

**FYI:**

**"This is a Michael Westen** **voiceover."**  
_  
"This is either a flashback or someone talking on the phone._

This means someone is thinking

Chapter 1

(Los Angeles)

Sydney Bristow stood in silence at the scene before her. Just yesterday and for the last two years, she was in an undercover assignment to bring down the Alliance of Twelve, specifically SD-6. At long last, the Alliance was brought down and the people who worked for them liberated. While Arvin Sloane still escaped, it was still a victory nonetheless and yet, it came at a personal cost to Sydney.

Marcus Dixon, one of her closest friend, viewed her as a traitor and a deceiver. True, he was deceived by SD-6 into thinking he worked for the CIA, but the fact that Sydney never confided in him and kept the whole thing secret wounded him greatly. _"Don't talk to me!"_ he had said in a cold voice before being led away. Those words pierced Sydney sharper than any knife that had ever been used on her.

"I heard you were here," a familiar voice said.

She turned around to see Michael Vaughn with a goofy grin on his face.

"I couldn't sleep," she stated, returning the smile. "I was afraid I'd wake up and find out this was a dream. I went for a run to clear my mind and I ended up here. Any word on Dixon or Marshall?"

"They'll be in debrief for a while," he answered. "Meanwhile, Sloane's been put on Interpol's most wanted list."

She nodded before pursing her lips, a thought occurring to her. "About last night-"

"Is this going to be about Alice?" Vaughn interrupted.

"I know it's complicated."

"We're not together anymore," he said bluntly.

That shocked Sydney, somewhat relieving her. "Since when?"

"Since this morning. The truth is, we've been over for a long time."

Their smiles returned, knowing that they could finally be together.

"I was thinking," Sydney continued, "I can go to the CIA through the front door this time."

"And I can actually give you a ride," Vaughn added.

At an inconvenient moment, Vaughn's phone rang. He gave her an apologetic look before answering.

"Vaughn here…What?...So soon?...Yes, sir. We'll be right over." He ended the call.

"What is it?" Sydney asked.

"We've got an assignment," he answered.

"So soon?"

He surprised her with a grin. "They told me that this particular assignment is something you'll enjoy."

* * *

(Miami)

Michael Westen cautiously stepped into the room, hiding his nervousness. Agent Pearce had called him about a job that Langley wanted him in on, but that wasn't what caused his uneasiness. Pearce was getting closer and closer into assuming that Michael killed the CIA operative. He hoped that he would find the real culprit before all the evidence points to himself.

Clearing his throat, he walked towards Pearce, who at the moment, was studying every single lead known to mankind.

"Agent Pearce, how's it going?" Michael asked.

"The Romanian connection looked so promising," she sighed, pointing to a picture on the wall. "So far, nothing."

Michael recognized the man as Lucien, a bomber who was hired to take out a man that resembled Michael. Of course, Lucien was killed by the "friend" who hired him, but not before giving him a lead.

"Then take me off the bench," Michael offered.

"I'd like to, but Langley was so impressed with your work in our last extraction, they've made you their go-to bad-guy grabber."

Michael decided to cut to the chase. "So where am I heading to now?"

* * *

(LA, specifically CIA meeting room)

"You're heading to Puerto La Cruz," FBI Director Kendall stated, "specifically, a beach town outside Caracas. We intercepted some Russian chatter. One of their assets, along with his wife, is taking a vacation there."

"Who's the target?" Sydney asked.

"They refer to him as 'Cheshire,'" he answered. "He's a biological weapons engineer. His bugs have been used in germ warfare for the Eastern Bloc. Unfortunately, we don't have a face to match a name."

* * *

(Miami)

"You want me to bring him back so you can get to know him better?" Michael assumed.

"His wife, too," Pearce added. "She might know something. I'm an equal-opportunity extractor."

"Speaking of wives," he mentioned, reading the file, "this job calls for a Brendan and Christina Johnson."

* * *

(LA, specifically CIA meeting room)

"It's a couples' resort," Kendall explained, "so you can see where we are going with this."

"You want us to pose as one of the couples and grab Cheshire and his wife," Vaughn stated.

Kendall nodded. "Reservations are made and I.D's have been crafted. You two are Chris and Brenda Jensen. This mission is a win-win situation for all of us. Miss Bristow gets a well-needed vacation, and we get an infamous biochemist."

* * *

(Miami)

"The agency approved Fi?" Michael asked, skeptical.

"As you know, relations with Venezuela are sensitive," Pearce explained. "If things go wrong, it's easy for the CIA to disavow; 'Burned spy and his arms-dealer girlfriend tried to get chummy with a mad scientist.'"

"Good to know Langley has our backs," he replied sarcastically.

"Have fun."

* * *

(LA, specifically CIA meeting room)

"You leave in a few hours," Kendall finished. "Good luck."

* * *

(Michael's loft)

"I like a good extraction as much as the next girl," Fiona admitted while Michael brought down a suitcase, "but when I asked for quality time, I didn't mean on a job!"

Michael pulled out a brochure and sat on the bed with Fi. "Don't think of it as a job; think of it as a romantic getaway, Fi."

She gave him an annoyed look. "A romantic getaway!? Tracking a biological weapons engineer?"

"The resort has a full-service spa and a four-star restaurant with Chef…" He trailed off when he noticed she was ignoring him. "…Louis."

"As much as I would enjoy a meal that doesn't come out of a yogurt cup, it's not about fancy trips for me. It's about…connecting."

"I thought we were connecting just fine last night," he said with a smirk.

Fiona rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what I mean."

"I know, but sometimes, it's hard to read your mind."

She gave him another exasperated look. "How is it, when you are dealing with drug lords or mob bosses, you know _exactly_ what to say and do, but when it comes to me-!?"

"I'm trying, Fi!" Michael protested. "I mean, I thought this would be a good start. It's not ideal, but we'd be together and vacationing on the CIA's dime is not all that bad." He pulled out a handful of bills and split it in half, holding one half to her. "We've got a discretionary fund."

Fiona sighed in defeat, taking her half. "I'll add a new dress to my collection…" She snatched the other half out of Michael's hand. "…and some shoes."

* * *

(Outside Sydney's house)

Vaughn sat in the car, waiting for Sydney to come out. He sent her a text, letting her know he was here. She needed five minutes, she had texted. He sat back in his car seat, pondering the wisdom bestowed on him by Jack Bristow

* * *

_(In the men's room)_

_ "So, what did you want to discuss with me?" Vaughn asked politely._

Jack gave him the usual glare that could mean "you spilled coffee on my shirt" or could mean "this is your last day on this planet."

"It has come to my attention that your relationship with Sydney has been taken up a level," he stated, leaving no room for excuses. "Let me make some things clear: whatever your intentions are with Sydney, you

will_ watch yourself. If you have a relationship with Sydney just so that you can fulfill whatever sexual fantasies you have with her, I will personally kill you myself if she doesn't first. However, if your motives are out of love and care, know that if you break her heart, I will bury you alive. Are we clear?"_

Vaughn gulped. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, have a good time."

* * *

Vaughn contemplated taking a picture of Jack and making posters out of it with the words "I'm watching you" across it, but the sound of a door opening released him from his thoughts. He turned to see Sydney carrying…four suitcases? What is she, nuts!?

Shaking his head, he stepped out of the car and offered his help to her.

"You sure this is enough?" he asked wryly.

"Oh, shut up," she replied with a mock glare. "It's the first time I've ever been on a mission that's practically a vacation. I have no idea how long we'll be staying."

He placed two of her…what is she packing? Rocks?...suitcases into the trunk. "I checked the times. It will take us about 8 hours to get there, so there'll be a lot of downtime."

She loaded the other two and slammed the trunk shut. "You ready?"

"Just one more thing," he answered, leaning in.

Sydney got the idea and met him halfway, their lips meeting. Unlike the last kiss, this one didn't last as long, so it wasn't as magical as the first time, but not a bad second.

"Let's go snatch us a biochemist," he stated.

* * *

(Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela)

_**"Working a cover at a foreign resort isn't about keeping a low profile; it's about having as much access as possible. Arrive in a nice car and tip extravagantly, and the service staff will open all sorts of doors for you. If you want to rub elbows with the other guests, select a cover that gives you an excuse to be social and a reason for the hotel to upgrade you to a central room. 'Travel writer' usually works fine."**_**  
**  
"We have a lovely suite for you," the receptionist said, handing Michael and Fiona the key to their room. "Please enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," Fiona replied before leaving with Michael.

(Michael and Fiona's room)

_**"It's a good idea to make use of all the hotel amenities . A laptop and some hacking software can get you access to the hotel's database and give you free pay-per-view in the process."**_**  
**  
Michael had been narrowing the guests down to see if any match Cheshire's arrival at the hotel. So far, four couples matched the date. There was one couple, however, that wasn't on the list, but made Michael double-check. A Chris and Brenda Jensen checked in later after he and Fiona did. Chris looked like an average Joe, but Brenda…her face looked very familiar.  
_**  
"Covert intelligence requires you to memorize every detail from the names of people you've met to what kind of shoes they were wearing. When a spy sees a face they had seen before, it usually means that it could be an assassin that you pissed off back in the day."**_

"Another ex-fiancé I should know about?" Fiona asked, peering over his shoulder.

"Someone I've seen before," he replied. "It could be from a newspaper, a TV show, a celebrity, even a hired gun. Recognize her?"

She shook her head. "No, but our names are strangely alike. It's kind of creepy, actually. So, how's the discretionary fund look?"

Michael took a good look at Fiona, who was the most extravagant, red dress he had ever seen.

"Expensive," he answered off-handedly. "Four couples' check-in-dates match Cheshire's." He flipped the screen back to the actual suspects.

"So one of these guys is our germ maker?"

"Tonight's the perfect night to check them out," Michael stated, putting on his tuxedo coat.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked.

"No," he answered. "I downloaded their room numbers onto my phone."

"We're Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, were we not?"

Michael snapped his fingers and pulled out two wedding rings.

"Aren't you going to get down on bended knee?" Fiona teased.

He stretched his other hand and took Fiona's. Her hand was in a "slip the ring on my finger" pose, but he had other ideas. He turned her hand over and slapped the rings into it.

"We've got work to do," he said, heading out.

Fiona rolled her eyes before muttering, "It's an ugly rock, anyway."

* * *

(Sydney and Vaughn's room)

"How do I look?" Sydney asked.

Vaughn's jaw practically dislocated at the sight of her.

Her dress of choice was a purple one, but it seemed to radiate somehow. She tied her hair into a neat bun, and her smile made her complete.

"You look…wow!" he exclaimed. "I'm glad that I'm your husband on this."

Sydney blushed at that statement. "Thank you. So, who are the suspects?"

He frowned. "I narrowed it down to four couples whose arrival times match Cheshire's, but we've got a different problem." He pulled up a picture of Brendan and Christina Johnson. "These two are here."

Her eyes widened at the sight. "Oh, my god! Is that Michael Westen?"

"The one and only," he answered grimly. "What do you know about him?"

"He used to be one of the CIA's top covert operatives until he got burned for going rogue. Do you think he's in league with Cheshire."

"Don't know, but it gets worse. The woman with him: Fiona Glenanne. She has an Irish heritage, but she's a gunrunner and an explosives expert. Not to mention, she's been noted as anti-government."

Sydney cringed. "Does the CIA know?"

"I made a call. Kendall wants us to gather Intel on the two before bringing them in. Technically, he shouldn't even be out of Miami. I'm bringing my gun just in case. You?"

"In my purse. How good is Westen in a fight?"

"Let's just say I hope you are better in combat than you think you are," Vaughn answered.

**And there's chapter 1. A couple of things I want to clarify:**

**This is going to be a **_**slow**_**-updated story, so be prepared for that.**

**I am not a CIA operative or member, so I am not sure if there is such a thing as getting things mixed up at the CIA. In this story, LA needs to get current information on Westen.**

**I hope I portrayed the characters right. You will note that most of the dialogue comes from Season 5: Episode 11 of Burn Notice, so it made things easier.**

**This story is more of an introduction than anything. I want to start somewhere, so I can have a basis for my eventual sequel.**

**Are Michael and Sydney going to join each other on cases? Yes, and a few of these missions will have different results. Ah, the joy of fanfiction. How I will incorporate it into making more sense, I'll take ideas.**

**Is Jack Bristow awesome? Yes, he is!**

Thumbs up if you readers can find the shout-out to Jennifer Garner.

**I'm not going to go in-depth on sexual moments of the shows. I'm not that kind of writer. It's all going to be implied or a quick-cutaway, so sorry if I've disappointed anyone in that field. Well, not really sorry, but again, I try to stay away from that stuff anyhow.**

**I will give you a spoiler alert: Michael will meet Irina Derevko and it will not be a happy meeting. Do you know why? Because I HATE THAT WOMAN! Unfortunately, I have to keep around because she's…ugh…essential to the plots in question, but I will make her pay. **

**REVIEWS, CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISMS, COMPLEMENTS, AND IDEAS ARE WELCOME! FLAMES, INSULTS, AND DERAGATORY LANGUAGE ISN'T!**

**Next chapter: Michael and Fiona meet Sydney and Vaughn. Get ready for the fights that I've been waiting for. Take guesses on who you think will fight and who will win. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: An Awkward Confrontation

(The ballroom)

When Michael and Fiona entered the ballroom, the first thing they noticed was that everyone from the hotel seemed to be here. Most were on the dance floor, but others were sitting back, drinking wine, and watching the fun.

"Well, I have to hand it to you," Fiona said, "This is the nicest place you've ever taken me to for surveillance."

"All of our Cheshires are here," Michael noted.

"From the looks of it, so are the rest of the resort and your mysterious girlfriend."

Michael gave a quick glance to his left and saw the same woman dancing with her husband. He decided to tread very carefully in the event that the woman was an assassin.

"Shall we?" he asked indicating the dance floor.

A grin appeared on Fiona's face. "I thought you'd never ask."  
_**  
"When gathering intelligence, operatives often rely on binoculars, hidden cameras, and electronic devices, but sometimes, all it takes is a well-dressed date and a decent sense of rhythm. If you're light on your feet, you can study a crowd without standing out in it and examine every angle of a room with a single spin. The first step, of course, is identifying your surveillance targets; locating them, assessing them, and coming up with a strategy for further intelligence gathering. The worst thing you can do is rush things. Your goal is to blend in, plan your moves, and let the dance carry you where you need to go."**_

After a while, the music shifted to a tango beat.

"Shall we tango?" Michael asked.

"Let's," Fiona answered.

"Can _I_ lead?"

She scoffed. "Fine; just this once."  
_**  
"The simplest kind of surveillance, of course, is eavesdropping; easy enough on the dance floor, where getting close to people is simply a matter of knowing the right moves and using them at the right time."**_

Once they were close enough to their first couple, he let Fiona dip backwards so she could hear them.

"He better make me first chair," the man ranted. "I've earned it!"

Michael lifted Fiona back up.

"Oh, he's the bad guy," she confirmed, "but just the lawyer kind."

He rolled his eyes and moved on.  
_**  
"More direct approaches can work as well. Dancing alongside someone for an evening can give you a perfect excuse to strike up a conversation and  
find out what you need to know."**_

Michael paused his dancing so that Fiona can approach the next targets.

"You and your husband make such a cute couple," she said in a cute, girly voice.

"Oh, we're not married," the wife corrected, "yet."

Fiona nodded and twirled back into Michael's arms.

"They're not married," she stated as they moved on.  
_**  
"You can even pull off a covert weapons check, if you're careful."**_

"Under his jacket," Michael whispered. "Could be a gun."

"Twirl me," she said.

Michael twirled her directly into the next target. When she impacted, she quietly pressed against his jacket before he could notice.

"Excuse me!" Fiona apologized before twirling back.

"Smartphone!" she announced.

"Doesn't mean he's not our guy," he retorted as they continued dancing.

Their intelligence gathering did not go unnoticed.

* * *

"He's good," Sydney admitted.

"I'm not a bad dancer," Vaughn mock-protested.

She rolled her eyes. "Not his dance moves. He investigated every single one of the couples without raising suspicion."

"He doesn't know which one of the couples is Cheshire," he noted. "He's not with the Russians, but he could be trying to recruit Cheshire when he finds him."

"What do you suggest?"

"We knock him out and bring him back to the States. I brought one of the tranquilizers disguised as a pen."

"What about his 'wife?'"

"We'll bring her, too. She might have information."

Sydney nodded. "We'll have to wait until-"

Vaughn interrupted her with a sudden kiss.

"Sorry," he said. "They were looking at us."

She smirked. "You could at least look sorry."

* * *

"It has to be Serge and Karina," Fiona stated, indicating the couple who always had serious looks on their faces. "They don't dance, they've barely touched their drinks, and they keep eyeing the door."

Michael shook his head, taking a sip of expensive wine. "Unless Serge is a child prodigy, he's way too young to be a bioweapons guy."

"You have a better prospect?"

He nodded, indicating the couple that Fiona "bumped" into. "It's those two. They're using a fake name."

Fiona was skeptical. "And how do you know that?"

"They're listed as Kevin and Nicki Skylar, but when the waiter called him 'Mr. Skylar,' it took him a good two seconds to react." He began searching for their room  
numbers on his phone.

"Well, maybe he was preoccupied. You know men—so easily distracted."

"Huh?"

Fiona shook her head.

"There's one way to find out," he said. "They're staying in Room 441. We should go before they finish dinner."

"We don't get to finish our wine?" she asked sadly. "It's a Kosta Browne!"

Michael gave her look of annoyance before heading out. Fiona followed him, taking the entire bottle with her.

"What about the strange couple?" she wondered. "They have been watching us."

"They will either follow us or look for us tomorrow. If they follow us, we'll take them out."

Fiona grinned. "Sounds good to me."

"_Knock_ them out, Fi," Michael warned.

She pouted. "You're no fun, Michael."

* * *

"They're a good distance away," Vaughn said. "Let's go."

Sydney nodded taking her bag with her.

Cautiously and quietly, the two of them went in the same direction as their targets. Of course, the moment Vaughn turned a corner, he was slammed up against the  
wall by Michael Westen himself, who looked pretty angry.

"Who are you and what do you want!?" he demanded.

Sydney reached for her gun that was still in her purse, but the sound of a gun cocking behind her stopped her.

"Don't even think about it," Fiona Glenanne warned. "Drop the purse."

Sydney reluctantly did so.

Vaughn mentally cursed himself for making such an amateurish mistake, but he figured he could remedy the whole situation.

He bashed Michael's head with his own head, dazing the both of them. Fiona was startled, giving Sydney enough time to kick the gun out of her hand.

Vaughn pulled out the tranquilizer and tried to stab Michael with it, but the man was far too quick. In an instant, he twisted Vaughn's arm, making him lose his grip on the sedative, and smashed it with his foot. He slammed Vaughn into the wall and punched him in the face, knocking him out cold.

Sydney was giving Fiona a hell of a time. True, the trigger-happy woman was trained, but she couldn't counter Sydney's fluid moves. Sydney blocked Fiona's punches and countered by elbowing her in the face and doing a spin kick. Fiona crashed against the wall, clearly defeated.

Sydney turned to Michael, who after knocking at Vaughn, came after her. She dodged his punches and kicked him backwards. She pressed on her attacks, using a combination of punches and kicks to throw him off, and yet, he blocked them with ease. When she aimed a kick at him, he sidestepped the blow and slammed her against the wall. Sydney decided to run up the wall and back flip over Michael's head. She kicked him against the wall and threw a punch at him, but he caught the punch. He elbowed her in the face, drawing blood from her nose. He did a roundhouse kick that sent her crashing to the ground.

Deciding to end the fight, Michael grabbed Fiona's fallen gun and aimed it at Sydney, who had Vaughn's gun.

"Drop it!" he demanded.

"You first," she retorted.

The two of them circled each other slowly, daring one another to make a move first.

"Who are you and why are you following me?" Michael repeated.

"I don't give my name out to people, especially traitors!" Sydney snarled.

He raised his eyebrows at her, clearly confused. "Did we have a bad date or something?"

That riled her up. "Don't play dumb with me, Michael Westen! I know who you are! You betrayed our country and killed innocent people!"

Before Michael could reply, Fiona smashed Sydney on the head with the wine bottle, knocking her down.

"Sweet dreams, bitch!" she exclaimed, punching her out cold.

"These people are government," Michael stated, handing back her gun.

Fiona shot him a disbelieving look. "Why would Pearce send to people out to get you?"

Michael dialed Pearce's number. "If she wanted my head on a stake, she would have sent a battalion after me, not two people. Agent Pearce, we need to talk!"  
_  
"Don't tell me you captured Cheshire already?"_ she asked.

"We've hit a snag. It seems that two government operatives decided to make me pay for the reasons behind my burn notice. Do you know anything about that?"  
_  
"What!?" _Pearce exclaimed. _"You mean to tell me that there are other operatives over there!?"_ There was a loud groan over the phone. _"I need to make a few calls! Where are they now?"  
_  
"As of right now, they're knocked out and…wait! Fiona's loading them in the trunk of our car. I'll send you photos of them."  
_  
"Tread carefully, Westen,"_ she warned. _"Invoking the wrath of whatever government they are working for would not bode well with us."_ She hung up.

Fiona walked back to Michael after locking the trunk. "It was a close fit, but those two are as uncomfortable as possible."

"Let's hurry," Michael said. "We don't want miss our opportunity with Cheshire. We'll interrogate the two afterwards."

Quickly and quietly, Fiona and Michael headed into the hotel and broke into Room 441.

"Work fast," she said. "I'll keep watch."

Michael headed towards the nearest outlet and began his work.  
_**  
"An outlet is the ideal place to plant a bug in a hotel. Not only do they provide power, but any audio picked can be transmitted through the wires to any other outlet in building, as long as you can manage to hook into a live circuit without electrocuting yourself."**_

"Hurry, Michael," Fiona warned, looking out the window. "The Skylars are calling it an early night."

"30 seconds," he replied, getting the bug in place.

"More bad news: we were _both_ right. Mr. Skylar is the death merchant. Serge and Karina? Bodyguards!"

Quickly, Michael screwed the protective covering back into the outlet and got ready to head out the door. "Let's go!"

Fiona shook her head. "Not this way. It's too late."

He sighed and motioned her to follow him. The two of them stepped out of the window and stood on the windowsill carefully.  
_**  
"As a spy, improvising to get out of tough situations is just part of the job. Sometimes that means stealing a car to get away from a gun battle. Other times, it means destroying a $2,000 dress to climb down safely from a hotel balcony."**_**  
**  
Using part of the dress as a rope and his tuxedo as something to tie two, Michael and Fiona climbed down the balcony, and not a moment too soon. A second later, and they would have been spotted by Serge.  
_**  
"You do what you have to do to survive, but it doesn't mean you won't upset someone in the process."**_

"You always know how to show a girl a good time, Michael," Fiona sneered, her dress now destroyed.

Quickly, the two of them ran to their car and drove off, their hostages still in the car.

* * *

_**"When interrogating government operatives, you have to assume that they are as good as you are. Some spies have developed counter-interrogation techniques to know more about the enemy than the enemy would know about the operative."**_

Michael parked the car in the middle of a forest and opened the truck. The man was still knocked out, but the woman, awake, gave Michael a glare that would intimidate most men.

"Let's go," he said, motioning with the gun.

She stepped out of the trunk slowly, watching his every move.

"Do us a favor and try to escape," Fiona advised. "Michael just ruined a good dress and I need someone to take it out on."

"Fi, not now."  
_**  
"Sometimes, the best way to find out information is to be blunt and to the point."**_

"We know you're an operative," Michael informed, putting away his gun. "A well-trained one, at that. We're on the same team, Brenda, if that's really your name."

She gave him another glare. "The same team? Good one, Westen. I've heard about you. Chechnya, 2002. Fifty people dead. Jordan, 2006. Fifteen dead, fifteen maimed. We are _not_ on the same team."

"I never did those things!" he shot back, getting angry. "I was framed! Call your bosses, call the CIA! I handed them proof that I was innocent."

"You're lying. I work for the CIA and they did not mention that you were innocent."

"This isn't getting us anywhere, Michael," Fiona informed. "That woman wouldn't know the truth if it kicked her in the ass."

She shot them another glare, but she held her tongue.

At that moment, Michael's phone rang.

"Yeah, Pearce?"  
_  
"You owe me big time, Michael!" _she stated. _"Some divisions of the CIA weren't informed of the truth, so I explained it to them. Someone's getting fired tonight. "_

"So they _are_ CIA?" he repeated to be sure.  
_  
"Yes. They're from the LA division. The woman is Sydney Bristow and the man is Michael Vaughn. They're in Puerto La Cruz for the same reasons you are: Cheshire."_

"Thank you, Pearce," Michael replied before ending the call.

"Well?" Fiona asked.

He turned to Sydney. "I thought I recognized you. Jack told me about you."

That caught her off guard. "What do you know about my father?"

"He was my training officer back in the day. He's a good man who cares about you, Sydney. You should be getting a message from the higher-ups to cancel the witch hunt against me."

At that moment, Vaughn's phone vibrated. Michael handed her the phone and she read exactly what Michael had said.

"You can lower your weapon, Fi," he said.

Fiona reluctantly did so.

"I guess I should apologize, Mr. Westen," Sydney said. "You're here for the same reasons we are, I assume?"

"We know who Cheshire is. I planted a bug in their room, so we're probably missing some information as we speak." He handed her a napkin. "For the blood."

Sydney nodded and wiped it off her face. "So, how do you want to approach this?"

"_We_ can handle this ourselves," Fiona retorted.

"Fi, we could use the backup," Michael stated. "If we all pitch in, we all go home happy. Can you handle being backup?"

She nodded. "I can handle that."

Suddenly, banging started to sound from the trunk. Sydney opened it to reveal Vaughn trying to break out.

"Don't be such a baby," Fiona chided. "Transportation by trunk isn't bad."

"Sydney, what's going on?" Vaughn asked.

"We're all on the same team," she answered, handing him his phone.

He read the text and sighed. "Sorry for attacking you, Mr. Westen. I should have gathered more information first."

Michael nodded. "Apology accepted. We need to get back to the hotel. I planted a bug in Cheshire's room, so if you want to get to know them more, you can come with us."

**Yeah, this was not my favorite chapter to write, especially the second half. I could definitely use the advice to improve this chapter. **

**Please review and critique. Ideas would be good to. Again, expect the updates to be slow. I don't want to make any blunders.**

**Next chapter: The four of them work together to bring down Cheshire.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Making Friends

Fiona was less than thrilled that the two CIA agents had to accompany them to their room. In fact, she almost locked Vaughn back in the trunk just because she was pissed, but Michael, naturally prevented her from doing so.

On the car ride back, Michael was asking Sydney several questions.

"So, how is Jack?" he asked. "The last time I saw him was about five, maybe six, years ago."

"He's doing great," she answered. "We finally brought down the Alliance of Twelve once and for all."

A grin appeared on his face. "About time. And Sloane?"

She frowned. "Still on the run."

"What are you guys talking about?" Fiona asked, her curiosity defeating her rudeness.

"Back when I was a spy," Michael explained, "Jack Bristow was working undercover at SD-6, a branch of the Alliance. Sometimes, I would go on missions around the world to give as much hell as I could to them in order to ensure their defeat. If I wasn't in covert ops, I would've gone undercover too."

"Sydney Bristow here is the reason why the Alliance was brought down," Vaughn bragged.

Sydney blushed again.

Now, Fiona was _really_ interested. "How?"

"By making sure that the CIA was more than one step ahead of them," she answered. "Dad was one of the head honchos at SD-6 while I worked in the field. That gave me clearance to the missions and I could usually control what would happen during them. By the way," Sydney turned her attention to Michael, "we never met before. How did you know me?"

"When I worked with Jack, he had a picture of you. The face was one of many I've memorized."

She nodded. "So, if you were innocent, why were you burned?"

"There was an organization similar to the Alliance. They didn't have a name, but they had one purpose: to use burned spies to their advantage. I was, according to them, their ultimate spy."

"I don't doubt the claims," Vaughn admitted. "Russia practically fears you."

Michael went on. "Eventually, we tore it down using information that was being put on the black market. It was a drive that consisted of everything we needed to know about the organization. Technically, I'm still burned, but the CIA recruits me unofficially from time to time."

"Story time is over boys and girl!" Fi announced, parking the car near the hotel.

Quickly, the four of them headed back in the hotel. The hospital staff asked questions regarding the blood and bruises and Fiona's ripped dress, but Michael bribed  
them to not mention it ever. After they all changed their outfits in their rooms, the four of them crowded around the living room, listening to the bug.

Kevin Skylar was on the air. "_Will you just—will you please put away that bottle and calm down, Nicki? You're being irrational. I don't even know what you're saying."_

"I'm saying that this trip is so lame, I could scream!"

Nicki exclaimed.  
_  
"Will you keep your voice down please?"_

For the next few minutes, they heard Kevin and Nicki argue back and forth over the lame trip and Kevin's day job that seemed to suck their life away.  
_  
"I _have _to work for them!"_ Kevin retorted. _"What the hell do you want from me!?"  
_  
The argument had reached its peak. "_I wanna go on a vacation where I don't have Russian goons telling me where to go or what time I have to go to bed! I WANT A REAL LIFE!"  
_  
The argument officially closed at the sound of a slamming door.

"I guess selling bioweapon secrets wasn't quite the opportunity they hoped for," Vaughn observed.

"Sounds like Nicki is desperate for some social contact and a little taste of the good life," Michael added, turning to Fiona. "How would you feel about making a new friend tomorrow?"

Sydney was skeptical. "You want your trigger-happy, bomb-making girlfriend to make a friend?"

Fiona gave her a glare."Keep talking. I might introduce you to my bombs."

"Ladies, please!" Vaughn pleaded before things escalated before turning to Michael. "What is your plan?"

"We butter them up and take them on a nice helicopter ride back to the States," he answered.

Vaughn raised his eyebrows. "Just like that? What about the Russians?"

"They don't get an invite," Fiona replied. "We convince them to ditch the bodyguards and we're all set."

"Where do we come in?" Sydney asked.

"I haven't thought that far ahead," Michael admitted. "I'll come up with something."

"Here's the deal," Sydney stated. "You're talking about snatching two people and taking out the Russians. Is there a failsafe in case things go wrong?"

Michael and Fiona looked at each other and shook their heads.

"We usually make it up as we go," he said.

"And how have you survived for this long?" Vaughn asked.

"I eat a lot of yogurt."

Sydney began to question the man's sanity, but then again, Michael Westen was, after all, the superspy of the CIA.

"Well, if you are finished here," Fiona started, "I think it's high time for us to go our separate ways. Don't call us; we'll call you."

Sydney gave her another withering glare before stepping up to her face in a threatening manner. "I don't know what you're deal is with me. Maybe you're upset with the fact that I beat the tar out of you a few hours ago, or maybe you can't stand the CIA. Whatever the case may be, suck it up! We'll provide backup, but we won't be watching from the sidelines."

Fiona was not intimidated. "Leave, and don't forget your dog."

Michael and Vaughn (who wanted to punch Fiona) were about to intervene, but Sydney held up her hand.

"We'll be in touch," she responded coolly, walking to the door with Vaughn, but not before saying, "While it's fully justified, Miss Glenanne, you have an inferiority complex."

Vaughn quickly closed the door before Fiona could get to her gun.

Michael wisely restrained her. "Fi, stop! Whether we like it or not, they will be here for the duration. We might as well make use of it."

"Why didn't you say anything, Michael!?" she screeched. "We don't need their help! We don't need _certified_ operatives watching us!"

He sighed. "Let me put it this way: we attacked CIA operatives. I have no idea what they're intentions are, but it won't bode well if they mention this to the higher-  
ups. Like I said, we'll finish the mission, and never see them again."

Fiona held her tongue. There was no point in arguing with Michael whenever he was set on something. If he wanted to get chummy with his CIA pals, fine by her. She just hoped the smart-aleck would be wise enough to stay away from her.

"I'm drawing a bath," she stated. "There's room for two."

Michael looked at her sadly. "I would love to, but I have to type up these notes."

She nodded before heading to the bathroom.

* * *

"Okay, it's official," Sydney pointed out. "That woman is a stuck-up bitch."

"I don't like her either," Vaughn agreed. "The sooner we complete this mission, the sooner we get out of here." He headed towards the living room. "I'll see you in the morning, Syd."

"Where are you going?"

"To the couch."

Sydney wanted to let him know that there was room on the bed for both of them, but she decided that Vaughn thought that it was too soon for that. And yet, was that longing in his eyes?

"Good night, Vaughn," she said, making her decision.

"Night, Syd," he replied, closing the bedroom door for her.

* * *

The next day, Nicki Skylar was sitting on a chair by the poolside, getting a tan after Kevin left to go work. Naturally, he was accompanied by Serge while Karina watched Nicki intently. Fiona was in position on a chair next to her, waiting for Michael, who was at the bar, to make his move. Sydney was swimming in the pool and surfaced regularly in order to keep an eye on things while Vaughn sat in a chair across from Fiona, Nicki, and Karina.  
_**  
"For a spy, making an approach is about problem solving. Whether it's a bad marriage or an unsatisfying job, you look for the problem, the issue on the target's mind."**_

"Can I get you something, Mr. Johnson?" the bartender asked.

"Yes," Michael answered. "I'm hitting the golf course, but my wife would like a little champagne and caviar. It's our anniversary, so make it the good stuff, will you?"

The bartender smiled, filling out a pad. "Of course, _señor."_  
_**  
"Once you know the problem, it's just a matter of turning yourself into the solution…"**_

"I'll just need your signature," he requested, handing Michael a pen and the pad.  
_**  
"…and arranging a meeting."**_

Michael changed the six to an eight. It would fool the bartender into sending the good stuff to Nicki instead of Fiona. He signed his signature and handed the pad and pen back to him.

On cue, the bartender approached Nicki and placed the stuff on the chair separating her and Fiona.

"Champagne and caviar," he announced.

Sadly, Nicki shook her head. "Oh, no. I'm sorry. I didn't order this."

"From your husband," he added, indicating the bar.

She laughed at the absurdity of it. "I wish! My husband isn't that splurgy."

"I'm sorry," Fiona interrupted. "I think that might actually be mine. I'm so sorry." She took the bill that was in the bartender's hand and signed it.

"About a $1000 worth of yum," Nicki commented longingly.

"My husband and I only do this once a month," she explained, "so we try to make this count."

Karina gave Nicki a cold look, letting her know that this was all being watched.

"You know," Fiona continued, pouring a glass, "My hubby is busy. Why don't you join me?"

Reluctantly, Nicki shook her head again. "I shouldn't."

"There are no shouldn'ts on vacation!"

She grinned. "Okay. Yeah, hit me!"

Fiona handed her the glass. "I'm Christina."

"Nicki. Nice to meet you."

They toasted their glasses before drinking.

"Where's your husband?" Nicki asked.

"He is, uh, probably somewhere on the phone, as usual."

"Mine's the same way."

"Actually," Fiona continued, refilling her glass, "Brendan is being a good boy today. He's arranging a helicopter ride for us. Apparently, it's the best way to see the  
rainforest." She was reeling Nicki in. "Of course, he's only doing it because I twisted his arm."

She chuckled, knowing exactly what she meant.

Fiona held her glass up in a toast again. "Here's to…being the better half."

Nicki happily toasted her. "I'll drink to that."

* * *

"I can't believe it," Sydney said, lying in the chair and watching the whole thing. "She can actually be the best friend a woman needs when she wants to be."

Vaughn nodded in agreement. "Michael just sent me a text. If Fiona played her cards right, Nicki will introduce us to Kevin. He wants us to wait outside."

"I guess this is a good thing," she admitted. "I'm starting to feel…at peace. For now, I can actually relax for a while in a nice city while the others can do the spy work."

He smiled. "You've been through a lot, Syd. The guns have stopped firing, the Alliance is down, and Sloane is on the run."

He began to absentmindedly stroke Sydney's arm, but when she turned to him, he pulled his hand away.

"Sorry," he replied.

"I didn't mind," she said, smirking. "Let me guess: my father gave you the ultimatum?"

Vaughn nodded. "I care about you, Sydney. I love you. I just don't want to hurt you or disappoint you."

"Vaughn, you won't hurt me," Sydney assured. "You don't have to worry about my happiness because I am happy." She kissed him on the cheek. "_You_ make me happy."

For once, Vaughn had never been happier, even when he was with Alice. This woman was truly the woman of his dreams, the one that would make him complete. He loved her, and he was going show that he did for the rest of his life.

* * *

"Kevin!" Nicki exclaimed, finding her husband on the laptop.

With an annoyed look on his face, he turned to his wife, who was holding the wine glass and with Fiona.

"This is Christina," she introduced. "We met at the pool."

"Nice to meet you," he replied.

"Champagne?" Fiona offered.

"No, thank you."

In spite, Nicki closed the laptop. "That's my husband-a buzzkill!"

"I take it this isn't your first bottle, Nicki?" Kevin retorted.

Michael made his approach. "Christina, making new friends?"

"Honey, this is Nicki," Fiona introduced.

"You must be Brendan," she said, shaking his hand. "You never said how handsome he is."

Kevin introduced himself and shook his hand.

"Darling, did you book the helicopter tour?" Fiona asked.

"I tried to get something cozy," Michael explained, "but all they had was a six-seater."

Fiona frowned. "That seems like such a waste. I know." She turned to the couple. "Why don't you join us? There's plenty of room and we would love the company."

"That would be so fun!" Nicki exclaimed with pleading eyes.

Kevin looked behind him to see stone-cold Serge watching him closely.

"That's incredibly generous, but, uh, we can't," he reluctantly answered. "I'm sorry."

Nicki was not about to give up that easily. "Seriously, Kevin…"

"Look, don't decide now," Michael advised. "Let's all grab dinner and discuss it then. What do you say?"

Kevin looked back at Serge. "We'll think about it."

Fiona decided to bring in the ammunition by adding a pout to her face. "Oh, well, hopefully, we'll see you later."

They said their goodbyes before leaving.

"I don't think they're going for it," Michael observed.

"They're going for it," Fiona corrected. "I know what she's thinking. I know that she gave him."

He shook his head. "I'm not so sure-!"

"Christina!" Nicki called. "We're in! Since you guys got the helicopter tour, dinner's on us."

"See you at 7:00," Fiona replied giving her a final wave.

"Told ya!" she bragged.

The two of them headed back to the pool and informed Sydney and Vaughn of the events that occurred.

"Now, what?" Sydney asked.

"Well, tomorrow, we ditch the Russians, call the CIA, and we all get a helicopter ride back to the States," Michael answered matter-of-factly.

"And tonight?" Vaughn pressed.

Michael cringed. "Yeah, I have an idea, but you guys won't like it."

* * *

(An expensive restaurant)

"Hello, again," Michael said to the targets.

"Hey!" Nicki exclaimed, happy. "Our favorite couple!"

"We have a reservation," Kevin informed the waitress. "A table under the name Kevin Skylar."

"One moment, please," she replied, checking the list.

"Chrissy!?" a voice asked.

Fiona turned to see Sydney with a huge grin on her face.

"Brenda!? Oh, my god!"

The two "friends" embraced each other, squealing like schoolgirls.

"It's been what? Two years?" Fiona asked.

"Two and a half!" she corrected. "What are you doing here?"

Fiona indicated Michael. "My husband and I are having our anniversary in this lovely town. Oh, where are my manners?"

She introduced her to Kevin and Nicki, who were both delighted to meet someone else…well, mostly Nicki.

"Christina was my roommate in college," Sydney explained. "I was her maid-of-honor at her wedding."

"Well, good for you," Nicki complemented. "Christina knows how to pick the right people to befriend."

Fiona laughed. "Well, not always."

Sydney hid her frown barely.

"Is that a wedding ring I see?" Michael asked.

A grin appeared on her face. "I got married to the most handsome man on the face of the planet!"

"Where is he?" Kevin asked.

"Right here," a voice answered.

They all saw Vaughn smiling shyly, wiping off his hands with a napkin.

"I'm Christopher," he introduced, shaking their hands. Quickly, he began to wipe his hands.

"He's afraid of germs," Sydney explained. "He makes sure to bring napkins everywhere he goes."

"Well, everyone has their quirks," Nicki said.

"Your table is ready, sir," the waitress informed.

"We'll catch up after dinner," Fiona assured.

"See you then," Sydney replied.

When they were a good distance away, Fiona whispered to Michael, "Don't ever let that happen again."

For the next half hour, the two couples conversed and ate their delicious gourmet meals. Serge and Karina, naturally, were sitting in a table close by, but Sydney and  
Vaughn, were also nearby in case things went south. However, Nicki seemed a bit sad as she moved her food around with her utensils.

"I'm telling you," Michael advertised, "stunning views, booze on board. You're going to love this chopper ride."

"What's wrong, Nicki?" Fiona asked, concerned. "You've barely touched your moose.

"I didn't want to ruin our meal," she answered. "It's that…my husband…" She said that with distaste. "…said that we can't go on the tour."

"What!?" Fiona exclaimed. "Why?"

"Ask _him!"_

Kevin, on edge, most likely out of fear, responded with, "I'm afraid we don't have time."

"Of course you have time," Michael objected. "It's just a day ride."

"I said we don't have time!" he shot back harshly.

"Kevin, you're being rude," Nicki scolded.

Kevin apologized. "I just have work. My bosses need us to be home tomorrow night."

Fiona gave Michael a look of concern.  
_**  
"As a spy, you're trained never to pitch assets in situations you don't control. Still, you can't always avoid it. If it's a choice between that or losing the asset altogether, sometimes you have to grit your teeth and roll the dice."**_

"Let's stop with the charade, Kevin," Michael advised. "You and I have a lot in common. We both work hard, we both love our wives, and we're not who we claim to be."

Kevin and Nicki looked at each, nervous.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Hear him out," Fiona said, "and smile and nod as you do, or we're all gonna get shot by your bodyguards."

"I'm a broker of sorts," Michael explained, "for people with skills to sell, like you."

"I-I-I don't know what you're saying," Kevin stuttered.

"Of course you do," he corrected. "Kev, I can guess how it all went down, actually. It's always the same drill: you were at some Pharma conference-"

"Probably talking about diet drugs or cholesterol pills," Fiona added.

"-wasting that brain of yours, and then someone made you a better offer."

"Promised you the world."

"And then that promise didn't really pan out, now, did it?"

"How did you know that?" Nicki asked, bewildered.

"Nicki!" Kevin warned.

Fiona went on. "The Russians are all talk. If you're gonna sell out, you do it to the highest bidder."

"I can double what you make right now," Michael promised, "and I won't insult you by pushing a babysitter on you."

"What about them?" Kevin asked, indicating Sydney and Vaughn. "Are they in on this?"

"They are here to help," he assured. "When we heard about the Russians following you around, we decided to bring backup."

"Looks like the babysitters are getting suspicious," Fiona warned.

Sure enough, Karina and Serge were both getting up from their tables. Sydney and Vaughn noticed this, watching them carefully.

Fiona handed Michael a knife as he continued talking.

"I can give you everything you want, but you have to decide right now: do you want to go back to the Gulag with your millions that you'll never spend-"

"-or would you like to come with us to our private helicopter, champagne on ice?" Fiona finished, a gleam in her eyes.

Nicki noticed the Russians were getting closer and began to fear for her life. "Sweetheart, say yes."

"You have five seconds," Michael informed.

"Kevin, please?" she pleaded.

"Fine, I'm in," he conceded.

"Laugh, now," Fiona demanded. "As loud as you can."

All four of the busted out with laughter, halting the Russians.

"Now you see why I make him tell all his stories-" Fiona's voice dropped to whisper. "-in his inside voice?"

"Inside voice!" Michael whispered back.

"You are so bad!" she laughed as the Russians returned to their seats.

Fiona held out her drink. "To new friends."

"New friends," Michael repeated.

They all toasted, the deal set in stone. Now, it was time for Part 3.

**Now, we get to the action sequence in the next chapter. I hope I portrayed everyone well. I know that I stink at describing things, but I am striving to better. I knew that Fiona and Sydney were going to be rivals. It was inevitable. Instead of Tom Card, I decided to make Jack Bristow Michael's training officer. I figured it would be more fitting.**

**Next chapter: A major battle and a major setback.**

**NOTE: Jesse and Sam will be appearing soon. Count on it. **


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